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It wasn’t the feeling of the damp sand against his bare skin, or the sound of the waves, what woke Taehyung up. It wasn’t the sun’s burning orange hues of light shining directly in his face, which was frowning naturally at the intrusion, what woke him up, either.
Taehyung was woken up by a feeling of panic.
As he started to regain consciousness, his muscles and nerves tensing up and releasing slowly with every passing second, seemingly eternal, the tips of his toes were met by the rising tide, and he then hurriedly opened his eyes for the first time.
He felt his fight or flight instinct kicking in as he thought, I’m not supposed to be here.
The boy sat up with a gasp, and the first thing he saw was the sunset; he saw the appalling contrast between the sky’s radiating palette of raw tonalities, and the sea’s calmer, more contained but no less vivid, breathtaking and picturesque blue shades. He pursed his lips and blinked once or twice at the sight, completely mesmerized, completely immersed, and forced himself to breathe. The air pierced through his throat like a knife, as if this was the first breath he had taken in a long time. He fought back the urge to cough.
His hand went up to protect his face from the sun then, and he looked around, puzzled yet amazed, at the place lying right in front of him, stunning in it’s natural and pure beauty, almost unreal.
He remembered this place.
The memories came flooding into his subconscious like the tide kissing the soles of his feet, rising rapidly and then stopping abruptly, only to rise again until it was all Taehyung’s mind was able to fixate on. He pictured loud, yet restful indie music, the sound of glasses clinking together for a toast and the feeling of hands gently brushing against each other once the air started to get crisper. Taehyung couldn’t quite remember the owner of those soft hands, though, only the way they inched away shyly at the contact.
A sad smile crawled its way to Taehyung’s unsuspecting lips.
With the fleeting memories heavy in his mind, he decided to look around once more. Deeper into the beach, a few picnic tables spread out in the area, probably old and unused from what Taehyung could see. His hands clenched into fists instinctively at the realization that no other person was in sight; not even the road a couple of hundred meters ahead seemed to have any cars transit it, and not even the characteristic sound of seagulls could be heard. Only the waves and the breeze accompanied him in body and spirit. Taehyung hazily wondered if this was all a dream.
Everything seemed so real , though, as if the scenery was real, but he wasn’t.
His smile turned into a scowl then, and as he got up his legs wobbled with uncertainty. His toes curled into the sand, a subconscious way to ground himself into his new reality, and he stumbled forward.
He noticed the wind picking up slightly, felt his clothes flutter along with it, and when he looked down he was made aware of what he was wearing, exactly; a loose tank top, strap hanging off one shoulder, a flannel shirt lazily tied around his waist and a pair of shorts ripped at the edges, with a bracelet gently hugging his ankle. Taehyung couldn’t remember any of this being in his wardrobe.
Brushing the sand off of himself, he headed for one of the picnic tables and promptly sat down. His fingers and his stomach ached with anxiety and now that he thought about it, his whole body seemed to hurt in some way or another. No bruises covered his body, though, and when he touched along his tan skin, the pain did not fluctuate, almost as if the pain was just a fraction of Taehyung’s imagination. And maybe it was.
He played with his hands restlessly in an attempt to soothe the calamity that was his state of mind, as his subconscious jumped from one possibility to another about when, and how , he could have possibly gotten himself into this situation. With his cellphone nowhere in sight, Taehyung only grew more and more worried, until the sound of footsteps along the sand, ever so softly becoming more prominent, found its way to Taehyung’s ears and when Taehyung turned around, frightened, yet relieved, the air was punched out of him by the sight.
Suddenly the beach, the clothes, all things once confusing in Taehyung’s mind made sense; for the first time, not since he had woken up, but in a long, long time, Taehyung felt home, and, in a sense, he was.
Yoongi was the same as the last time Taehyung ever saw him, same old messy, wavy, minty hair and washed out t-shirt, same old sleepy eyes and ripped shorts. The setting sun lit up his skin like a warm fire and he glowed, beautifully, almost resembling an angel. Taehyung’s eyebrows furrowed as he fought the urge to cry, not because he didn’t want to, but because the tears would blur his vision, would block the picture his brain could almost not believe, and as he stumbled and ran towards the other boy and embraced him tightly, Taehyung sobbed. His hands held onto Yoongi as if he’d disappear into thin air, clawing and grasping desperately to pull in everything that was Min Yoongi, the boy that Taehyung dragged to all his beach parties, the college best friend that wore the same sweatshirt every day along with his heart on his sleeve, the Min Yoongi that passed away before he could become anything else more than a best friend. The Min Yoongi that liked his morning coffee with one spoon of sugar and the one who swore to never leave Taehyung’s side but did .
Yoongi took longer to react, confusion written all over his sun-kissed face and pouty lips, and when he carefully placed his hands on Taehyung’s back the latter melted into his arms.
It’d been years.
“ You’re alive. ” Taehyung managed to cry out in between coughs and sobs, and saying it out loud only made him cry harder. Taehyung sniffed one final time before he let go and clasped his hands together over Yoongi’s face, red, puffy eyes working their way over every feature he had missed oh so very much. Too much.
“Of course I am. Idiot.” Yoongi inched away slightly and reached out his thumb to wipe away at Taehyung’s cheek, and Taehyung leaned into the touch like an abandoned puppy. Yoongi huffed as his heartstrings tugged away against his own will.
“I thought I’d forgotten your voice-”
“What are you on? We see each other every day.”
Yoongi felt a pull at his clothes as Taehyung held onto the fabric with more strength, and for a moment Yoongi felt the urge to push Taehyung away, to question him further and mock the face he made when he cried, but something about the knot in Yoongi’s throat and goosebumps along his skin told him there was something more to this than perhaps a simple prank. He sat Taehyung down on the edge of the bench slowly, careful as to not let go, not even for a second, and sat right back with him face to face. He looked different, Yoongi thought, more mature in his sharp features and a deeper voice that still hid the Taehyung that Yoongi knew and loved underneath; but he had changed. His eyebrows furrowed with concern. “What’s wrong?”
Taehyung could only gaze, bewildered, at the sight of their hands intertwined. He shook his head then, to Yoongi’s amazement, and whispered to himself something along the lines of I must be dreaming .
“Taehyung, you’re scaring me.”
They remained silent for a while then, and Yoongi only grew all the more concerned. “Hyung, what day is it?” Taehyung’s voice trembled.
“Huh? It’s August 6. We start third semester in less than a month- did you forget? Is that why you’re acting all weird?” Yoongi gulped when Taehyung’s breath hitched, intrigued.
“What year, hyung? What year is it?”
“2015…?”
“No, no. I-It can’t be,” Taehyung’s nails dug into the skin on Yoongi’s hands subconsciously, painfully; however, Yoongi did not move away. Taehyung had started sweating by then, his face pale despite the prominent sunset displayed right in front of him, and when he looked at Yoongi his pupils quivered with something Yoongi could only describe as raw, unprecedented distress. Yoongi couldn’t dare ask what was wrong again even though his original inquiry was dismissed.
Taehyung looked away, and sighed.
“Hyung, are you alive right now?”
Taehyung’s gaze was somehow cold when he turned back to look at Yoongi again, with a seriousness Yoongi had never seen before. He gulped, suddenly struck with despair, and nostalgia, although he didn’t know of what, exactly. Why was the simple question so unsettling?
“Why… do you ask?” Yoongi’s shaking eyes focused on Taehyung once more, went over his bushy eyebrows and pointy nose and pretty cupid’s bow, even prettier lips. Now he definitely looked different, more somber and disciplined, yet pushing. Restless. Simply distinctive. Taehyung looked down and pursed his lips. Yoongi was reminded of the seriousness in Taehyung’s tone just a few seconds beforehand.
“It’s 2020, hyung.”
“What?” Yoongi huffed, confusion painting his face quickly after he realized Taehyung meant it, didn’t laugh along with him. The slight smile quickly fell out of his lips.
“You died shortly after- after the party- the one supposed to happen right here. In a car accident. August 7, 2015.”
A few seconds of silence followed. Only a few.
The words bounced around Yoongi’s mind the same way a wild fox would try to escape its suffocating cage, scratching at the walls until its claws bled and it heaved with exhaustion and desperation, and his train of thought only settled deep within the inner parts of his amygdala after he started feeling his heartbeat pulsate throughout his whole body.
“You’re lying.” Tears welled up in Yoongi’s eyes. “You have to be lying.”
“I… really wish I was.”
And somehow, at that moment, Yoongi felt it. The skid of the tires on the hot concrete, the rush of adrenaline and fear and the burning of his skin with every piece of broken glass cutting into his helpless body; he felt it all, as a sharp, immediate flash before his eyes but felt it nevertheless, and he knew that couldn’t have possibly been an illusion.
It couldn’t be.
Yoongi’s reaction progressed slowly, falling apart at the seams; like a natural disaster. It started as only a mild shake of his head, denial clouding his perception while spewing out nonsense about Taehyung being crazy, but deep down, Yoongi knew something felt strange about that place, that beach. It seemed too perfect sometimes, never-ending, and when the possibility of heaven crossed Yoongi’s mind, the weight of Taehyung’s words being absorbed into his skin until they became a part of him, he tore his hands away from Taehyung’s and fell back into the sand, shocked, his face morphed into an expression of anguish.
As Yoongi’s voice grew from rambling into yelling, hands clawing at the sand and pulling him in further into the sea, Taehyung’s trembling hand reached out in fear. Not being able to find the words to say, Taehyung watched as Yoongi’s decaying psyche slowly unraveled and bloomed into a manifestation of helplessness and frustration.
His pants and cries blended in with the sound of the waves and that alone made Yoongi realize he was attached, forever, to this place.
His tear-stained cheeks blushed furiously from the blood circulating rapidly to his brain in an attempt to process the newly obtained information yet still, he refused to accept it. He shut his eyes like a child, humbly hopeful of the scarce possibility of it all going away as he opened them again. It didn’t. He trembled.
“Hyung,” Taehyung sobbed.
Yoongi was a little quieter now, calmed down gradually with every sob, but still in a state of shock, and the sound of Taehyung’s voice seemed reachable by hand even if Yoongi had crawled pretty far away from the bench. The backside of his shirt and shorts was as moist as the sand as he neared the shore, and he was afraid to get up. Taehyung got up instead, walked over to Yoongi’s small frame, shrunken even smaller with fear, and offered a sad, understanding smile.
Yoongi looked up at Taehyung, whose sorrowful shadow over him loomed bigger than what Yoongi remembered it as, heavy with the grieving even 5 years later, and Yoongi’s heart sunk to the pit of his stomach. He looked away.
“I really did die, didn’t I? I saw it- felt it. It hurt.” Yoongi whispered achingly. Taehyung walked the last few steps and looked over at the horizon. The sun was beginning to set. He wondered if the concept of tomorrow existed in this place. He wondered how long they’ll be there. His silence answered Yoongi in a way words may not have been able to.
“I’m sorry I left.” Yoongi’s voice had managed to get even quieter. Taehyung took some time to respond as the thought of Yoongi feeling guilty for something entirely out of his control entered his mind.
“It wasn’t your fault, hyung. The car’s brakes malfunctioned… You were the only casualty.” Taehyung’s voice sounded strained and as he knelt down, a shaky sigh escaped his lips. “I missed you a lot.”
Yoongi pursed his lips and nodded, still trying to comprehend and engulf the concept of the 5-year gap between them. Taehyung was 25 now, technically older than him, and could have changed entirely since Yoongi’s passing, considering that half a decade is a really long time.
Yoongi remembered how Taehyung and he met in their shared Education class, with Taehyung following his passion for teaching and his dream to mentor and guide the youth despite his parents’ disapproval, and Yoongi following his mother’s desires with no clear vision of who he wanted to become. By leaving, Yoongi left Taehyung alone with no one who understood, no one that supported him and his decisions, no one with whom Taehyung could feel blissfully desolate, someone who would laugh, cry and drink with him until they both forgot the kisses they shared under the moonlight. Yet maybe Taehyung had found someone else already.
“Taehyung-ah, why are you here?”
“I don’t know, hyung. I don’t really remember anything. Maybe I died in my sleep.” Taehyung’s face was practically expressionless and he let himself fall into a sitting position with a huff. Their legs touched.
“Why are you so calm, Taehyung?”
“I get to be here with you again.” His response was almost immediate, taking Yoongi by surprise, but still, he couldn’t hide the slight smile on his lips. The initial distress had passed, although the worrying for Taehyung lingered a little, a small flame lit inside his heart just for the younger (older, now) boy.
He wondered if Taehyung ever thought about him as Yoongi did him, while he was alive, like an unreachable dream; maybe the first one Yoongi had in all his life. Because even after all that happened between them, nothing really did, in the end, birth from any of their affectionate interactions. And maybe that was what was meant to happen.
“What about your dream?” And Yoongi thought about his own unrealized dreams as he asked Taehyung about his. His chest stung a little knowing he’d never be able to achieve any of them anymore.
“After you passed, I took time out of college to recover, and when I went back I realized I wasn’t as passionate about it as I was before. I- I wasn’t passionate about anything, really. Stuck,” Taehyung gulped, only giving Yoongi fleeting gazes of self-consciousness. “I found a decent enough job and settled for that.”
“But-”
“But it doesn’t matter anymore. What matters is I found you again, hyung.”
Taehyung scooted over to Yoongi ever so slightly, careful and expectant in his movements, as if he was waiting for Yoongi to intervene again. Yoongi remained silent, encouraging, and after that Taehyung fully moved his way over to Yoongi, sitting beside him, facing the sea. The setting sun had turned the sky an ardent pink, with streaks of purple and orange complimenting it.
Taehyung recalled this same scenery from the evening before the accident, when everything seemed so complicated, but his difficulties were soothed by the warm air and Yoongi’s wise words. Yoongi repositioned himself to face the sea as well. Their hands brushed against each other once again.
“Why do you think we’re the only ones here? Isn’t this supposed to be heaven?” Yoongi wondered out loud, eyes never leaving the sight of the sun merging with the waves, and when Taehyung turned his head to look at him, his pupils fully blown in awe, Yoongi looked perhaps even more beautiful than all the sunsets Taehyung had ever witnessed. “Maybe because this place was important to us,” Yoongi hummed, stretching out his legs to feel the warm water touch his feet, and rolled his head back, aware of Taehyung staring but too flustered to confront it. He wiggled his toes.
“Hey, hyung,” Taehyung inched closer, fully taking Yoongi’s hands into his own. Yoongi turned to Taehyung and his blush was evident even with the reddish sun rays illuminating his skin. His lips glistened from nervously biting at them, too. Yoongi’s heartbeat picked up. Taehyung’s did too.
“Maybe we can make it right, this time around. Y’know? I don’t want to lose you twice.”
Their faces were definitely too close for Yoongi not to notice, and even after years of waiting for something like this, Yoongi felt like it was going too fast. Too many emotions packed into so little time overwhelmed his perception, and he looked away from Taehyung’s expectant eyes.
“Taehyung… surely you met someone else- someone better in these 5 years,” Yoongi whispered in a downcast tone, and Taehyung shook his head profusely, soft hair dancing around his well-defined features.
“It’s always been you, Yoongi. Just you. How could I have fallen for someone else when you were the one- the one to always make me feel like I was worth something ? All this time, these 5 years- hell, even longer- I’ve kept going as best as I could because if Min Yoongi believed in me, then I’d have to believe in myself as well. Somehow,” Taehyung paused for a brief moment to sniff.
“It’s you. And I’m sorry I couldn’t express it then.”
Yoongi looked back at the sea, at the waves that slowly but surely gained more and more momentum as the wind picked up its pace, ruffling the leaves of the palm trees as well as their light clothes. Deep down, there was so much doubt in Yoongi’s mind, so much fear, the underlying feeling that they would manage to mess it up once again. Fear that melted away when Taehyung squeezed his hand reassuringly and circled Yoongi’s palm with his thumb. Yoongi’s eyes watered at the contact, so small yet so meaningful like no time had passed at all.
“Well, then, why don’t you express yourself now?”
Yoongi’s breath was soft and the smell of pineapple lingered in the air when he spoke. With his head lolled over his shoulder, facing Taehyung, Yoongi fluttered his eyes shut, and a single, warm tear slipped down his cheek.
Taehyung ran a hand through Yoongi’s hair and then wiped the tear away attentively. His eyes were threatening to water as well, so hopeful and eager to spend the rest of their afterlives together as, finally , something more than helpless victims of their own skinny love. He rested their foreheads together and smiled, overcome with emotion, wanting to remember this moment forever, dropping his previous apprehensions and regrets, putting them in a bottle and letting the sea carry them away.
“I love you.”
Yoongi’s mouth was sweet and lovely, drowning Taehyung in the feeling every kiss brought him, tears falling freely now that everything fell into place after so, so long. Yoongi only kissed back, not saying anything so as to not disturb the fragile moment. Everything about it felt like home, from the slight upward curve of Yoongi’s lips to the sound of their blissful solitude and nothing but each other.
Taehyung pulled away, after a while, sighing happily. His heart was pounding in his chest with every breath he took, and for a moment, he felt very dizzy. He pushed the sensation away. Yoongi held onto his hand tighter.
When Taehyung opened his eyes, everything was white. A bright light shone directly above him, and as he started gaining consciousness of his surroundings, Taehyung noticed he was lying down. The first thing he heard was a short, almost dismissable beep , and his peripheral vision cleared enough to reveal the heart rate monitor sitting, towering, to his side.
No.
He sat up and his whole body screamed in pain, but he ignored it. The room smelled of medicine and grief, and he was alone. The panic settled in quickly then, head looking down at his body, now rid of the clothes he wore at the beach and replaced instead with a plain, ugly and terrifying hospital gown. His right wrist was bound to an IV drip and Taehyung ripped the needle out carelessly as a quiet, desperate sob echoed throughout the lonely room, and when the blood started flowing out, red filling his vision, Taehyung screamed.
Nurses came running in at the noise disturbance, voices of concern drowned out by the outcries of misery and the hands gripping at Taehyung’s hair, ripping strands of it by the dozens. Clothes, skin, and bed doused in the blood that could never be as bright as the intense sky of that day, could never be as vivid as the lingering feeling of Yoongi’s lips on Taehyung’s.
Blood that could never be as vital to Taehyung as the boy he left on that Daegu beach, promise broken once again, with nothing left to do but accept the feeling of losing everything a second time.